Born Under a Black Cloud

I always say that I was born under a black cloud and that if it wasn't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all. I've always tried to be positive throughout my life nonetheless. My mother died an hour after I was born. Not exactly a stellar beginning for me, but obviously it could have been worse. But there isn't a day in my life that I haven't wondered about my mother. So every birthday, this past February was my 51st, is the anniversary that my mother died. It's hard to explain how difficult it is to experience that every year. When I was born, I was the youngest of 7 children. My mother was young, not even 30 yet, I think. I don't know for sure. No one ever spoke about my mother to me. I don't even know when her birthday was. I was told that she hemorraghed to death because the afterbirth was not expelled as it should have been. I've never seen her grave. I remember being very little and my stepbrothers saying to me that my mother died because I was so ugly she couldn't stand to live. I ended up being one of 12 children, as my father remarried and I have 3 stepbrothers and 2 half sisters. But I never call them that. We were all brothers and sisters. I never called my stepmother a stepmother, because she was the only mother I had. I won't go into detail now, but eventually I'll explain how our family put a great, big DIS in front of the word functional. The 60's & 70's and into the early 80's were a wild and crazy time. 

Unexpected Surprise

Mondays are always tough. The weekend seems to go by in a blink. I have been extremely tired lately -- just seems I can't get a spark of energy to ignite. Before I went to bed last night, my 18 year old son handed me his laptop & told me I needed to fill in the parental income information section of a college scholarship application. I had been after him for weeks to complete the application, which was supposed to be postmarked no later than April 1st, which was Sunday, making today, April 2nd, the last possible day to mail it on time. I was tired and cranky and pretty annoyed that I had to get my tax return so I could put accurate information in. When I was finished, he still had to finish his application and then he printed it out. He told me I needed to sign and date the second page, and would I mind putting it in a big envelope, too. I said that I would bring it to work with me today, copy it and get it to the Post Office. As it turns out, today was the first day of his spring break. I work in our school district's Alternative High School, but being a secretary, I don't get a spring break. But I was blissfully alone...no students...no teachers...no Principal...just me. So it is a nice break. I settled into work and pulled out Ryan's application. I signed and dated the second page and then decided to go through it page by page, to make sure it was complete before I copied it and mailed it. In the middle of the application were two essays he was required to write. One was about what he wanted to do with his life and it revolved around sports, music, knowledge and having a career that would make him happy. He really has a knack for writing. The second essay was for one of the scholarships that required an essay that shows how he has coped and/or is coping with an obstacle in his life.  His essay was well written and thoughtful, about the fateful day in July 2008, when he found his father face down in a pool of blood on our back deck. It was supposed to be a carefree summer for him before starting High School. Instead, his whole life changed. Of course, that was the day we discovered his dad had a brain tumor. In the essay, Ryan went on to explain that he had to grow up faster than his peers. I felt a lump begin to form in my throat and then read on that these past 4 years he has been inspired by me! He said that I did everything I did before, but more, to make our lives seem as normal as possible through all the changes. He said that I showed him that he needed to work as hard as he could at school and take on extra responsibilities at home in order to have a great life in the future. He will have a wonderful life because he makes life wonderful. It was a lovely Monday morning surprise to read my son's words. My baby boy is going to be just fine out in the world. I didn't feel as cranky as I headed out to the Post Office to mail his scholarship application on time, with a little spring in my step!

Marriage

We all know that marriage is work. It's not easy. I will be married 28 years in October. People are surprised when I say that and then say, but I don't have a marriage, or a husband. Rich's brain tumor and subsequent health issues have changed the dynamic of our lives dramatically. He is more child-like now and very un-husband-like. Now, I know women always say their husband's are like children, but mine is really more like a child than a husband. I miss having a partner and all that goes with it. It's very lonely. I go through the motions of everyday life, but when I am home I feel exhausted and empty. Sometimes I stare at Rich and wonder who he is. He does not resemble the man I married. I would not have married this man. He is a stranger. Every now and then a glimpse of the "old" Rich comes through. But it's a fleeting glimpse. And then I am more frustrated than before. Recently, Rich bought a dog as a Christmas gift for me. Ranger is a 9 month old Hungarian Vizsla and he's the best thing that's happened to all of us. He brings so much happiness and energy into our home. For almost 4 years I've been saying that happiness comes to our house to die. Ranger makes us all laugh and laughter really is the best medicine. Amazingly, he's made a change in my husband, because Rich has to take the focus off himself while taking care of Ranger all day while I'm at work. I believe that Ranger was God-sent to us to help us heal and move on. Finally...a bit of light after the long darkness that has been the aftermath of Rich's brain tumor. Hope is a wonderful incentive. I don't know that my marriage can ever recover, but at least we are having some fun and laughs again.